Shopping
by Domestic Frizz
Summary: Pavi treats Graves to a shopping spree. Their relationship grows, flirting ensues. MxM. Slash. Don't like don't read. Flames are taken and used for fuel...


Pavi admired his reflection in the newly installed full-length mirror, beholding his figure in profile. This was to be his first day out of the house, and he wanted to look his absolute best for it. Genterns were at his back and at his feet, fitting him with a new jacket and shining the toes of his boots. The comically exagerated act they put on for him used to be entertaining, but was now just pathetic. Still, their hearts were in the right place. After all, what was their function other than to serve as model, well, models? Finally satisfied with his appearance, he waved them off, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as they sighed and pouted their lips. He snatched a black parasol from the umbrella holder beside his door and hoisted it over his shoulder. The surgeons had advised him to stay out of the sun, but he didn't see the parasol as a hinderance. In fact, he saw it as an opportunity to start make a new fashion statement. That'd help him become his old self again. Seeing scalpel sluts wearing a Paviche Largo piece always made him feel better.

Graverobber too had been cleaned up, although wearing his normal outfit. His hair had been washed and brushed, his jacket mended, and nails painted. Waiting to the side for Pavi, Graberobber smiled at the routine the girls were putting on, but these girls had no character, his girls... Once they were out he stepped up behind Pavi taking him by the shoulder. "See! You look much better already!" Pavi couldn't help but grin. He /did/ look rather dashing in the outfit, and the make-up Graverobber had put on him really did wonders for his appearance. He laid a hand across Graves' own. "T'ank you, darling. Pavi is quite the specimen, no?" His tongue dragged across his lips. "You are not so bad yourself." Glancing out his window onto the street below, he saw their car waiting, the engine purring patiently. "Shall we?" he murmured, nodding towards the door. Graverobber over the last few day had been accustom to the pets names and attention for the man. Many people in this age were homosexual, Graverobber took no offense to it even though his sexuality was quite towards women. The chummy jobble from Pavi was just jobble. Right? Graverobber nodded and started from the door opening it for the faceless man. Yes, this was just good sporting. Pavi strutted out the door, parasol perched expertly on his shoulder. Another pair of Genterns waited on either side of the car. They eagerly opened the doors, bowing their heads and melodramatically sweeping their arms toward the lush interior. Pavi paid no attention, sparing nary a smile on their performance. He turned to Graverobber, eyebrows raised. "Please, you first. You're the guest." Graverobber nodded as he winked at one of the Genterns. Sliding into the fashioned automobile he was amazed with the interior. The few times he had been in a car it was a junker. Amazed with the button-press windows, and leather seat, he could hardly tell that they were being moved. Pavi slid into the seat opposite his companion, laying the parasol across his lap. A thick sheet of tinted glass, decorated with the Largo crest, separated the passengers from the driver, allowing for undoubtable privacy. "Do you like it?" Pavi asked as he stroked the leather upholstery, always eager to show off his wealth. "It's brand new. Just off the line." He found it odd how comfortable he felt around Graverobber. Genterns were so easy to be with; they had no personality of their own. No better than dolls. Others, though...Not so much. He was social, yes, but he'd never been good with one-on-one company. Graves' presence was soothing, perhaps because of his social status. It was always easier to talk to someone when you didn't have to put any effort to one-upping them. Turning his attention back to Pavi, Graverobber nodded. "It's great, Pav." His eyes started do wander around again fingers playing with the window button. "Where exactly are we going?" Graverobber would never fit in with the upper-class, beside the press had probally made up a story about Amber Sweets affair with a criminal, he known they had been seen together. What had the press done to his rep? His girls? His... business...? "Just out for some shopping, my sweet. A new look calls for a new wardrobe, no? You could use something new yourself. You have so much potential. It would be a sin to waste it away in that dreadful get-up." Pavi laced his long, white fingers together and cracked his knuckles, the pops rolling in a stomach-churning flow. The car came to smooth stop, and Pavi glanced at the door. "Like I said," he said with a wry grin. "guests first." Graverobber suddenly became aware of his own appearance, beside Pavi he looked like a bum... He smirked to himself as he got out of the car. Yeah... It was about time for a new coat and shoes... Hell Pavi could afford it! He smiled turning back around to help Pavi out of the auto. Pavi stepped out of limo, unfurling his parasol once again. Several passerby slowed and none too subtly began to stare, gossiping to one another in hushed voices. He forced a smile and tried not to mind. He shuffled closer to Graverobber, offering an arm to hang on. "Would you mind terribly?" A hint of nervousness had crept into his voice. "It's just for appearances." Graverober gave him an odd look but complied. The man had grown on him. So superficial, was that all there was to Pavi Largo? He doubted it. Entering the plaza of high kept shops Graverobbers lips twisted at the array of yuppies around. The people who were so blind not to see all that suffered on the street. Pavi felt less tense about reentering society now that he at least had some arm candy to flaunt. Trashy arm candy, but something sweet nonetheless. A young socialite he recognized walked past, sparing an approving nod toward Graverobber. He smiled in response, squeezing his companion's arm possessively. His dark eyes flickered from store front to store front, taking in all that they put out in an effort to suck him dry of cash. "What do you want to see?" he purred, looking at Graverobber. "You can have anything that you want. Pavi's treat." Graverobber eyed the man whom acknowledged him and bowed slightly, feeling it appropriate, but it was all odd. The blond returned his gaze to Pavi at the sqeeze and smiled lightly a the offer. He stopped and glanced at a few of the shops, they all seemed so intimidating. He ground his teeth together, trying to choose. "Where is it that you go? I really have no where to start with this whole thing." He waved his free hand in the air. Pavi cast his gaze on a particular store, its storefront display packed with decadent outfits of leather and silk. Two live models writhed behind the glass in the store's attire, beckoning customers to come in and have a look. The young celebutante pulled Graverobber to its door. "Here. Your clothes are too baggy; they do nothing to flatter your figure. Something from here will fix you up nicely." As he was lured into the store by promising models and the urging of his new friend his mind jociled the idea of himself becoming a pet. Is that what this was? A man approached them bowing deeply welcoming the customers. "AH Pavi! Wonderful to see you about again! What can I do for you this fine day?" Pavi smiled genuinely at the greeting. Ah, how good it felt to be famous! "Good morning, Drake, my darling. Today isn't for me. You see, my friend--" he thrust Graverobber in front of him, grasping his shoulder with a vice grip. "needs something new. He's painfully out of season, dreadfully unstylish. But who doesn't next to the Pavi?" He rested his cheek on Graves' shoulder, lips pouted with one eyebrow cocked. "Can you help this poor thing?" Drake ticked his tongue and stood in a thoughtful position. "We can make your friend look almost as good as you. Love take off that old coat, it looks like your wearing a dead fawks. Graverobber was helped out of most of his clothing by store workers. They pulled him to the back taking measurements and wiping off the pale foundation he had recently applied. He felt like a doll, it was a new feeling but he kind of liked the attention. Graverobber was shown fabrics and colors as well as Pavi to choose for his new wardrobe. He picked a violet grey fabric for something or other and being outlandish picked a luminous twilight blue pleather for another. They kept thrusting choice after choice at him and he finally had to leave it to Pavi to decide on the rest. Pavi, well accustomed to the poking and prodding of the shop's many sales associates (and not always for a fitting), had already selected a week's worth of new outfits and was then being fitted to a garish red pleather number that resembled a strange cross between a vest and a corset. "A little overwhelmed, love?" he gasped as a salesman tugged on the cords of the corset. "Don't be so modest! Money's no worry. Get whatever you want!" He splayed out his arms, accidentally smacking a salesman in the process Graverobber was already overtaken by many people barely able to hear or see his companion. "How long do you do this?" he shouted over the servicers. At that moment someone started brushing his mangled blond hair. He let out a screech and snapped at the wench who had done it. The dressing had become a makeover, artists gathered at his face and hands, doing things Graverobber had only heard about. When the fumes and powder had cleared, he found himself in a decadent maroon coat, high collared falling down to his knees. A black glittering vest and rather tight black slacks, with embroidary matching the color of his new coat. At first he saw Drake, then Pavi and a few of the attendants. That was the most uncomfortable experience of his young life, he felt as if he had left his body. Pavi looked wonderful, as he had viewed the Largo form a small distance. Pavis new attire and restored confidence made him shine. Graverobber smiled standing and slapped Pavi on the shoulder. He had a weird flashback to a red corset but shook it off. "Look at you! Good as new, but better!" Flattery works on most types. Pavi fluttered artificial lashes at Graverobber. "Grazi." he cooed, lightly grasping the other man's hand. He brought it to his lips and lightly kissed the tips of his fingers. "You look marvelous, my dear. A whole new man." Another sales associate swooped past, her arms full of the pair's selections. Pavi watched as she rung them up, unflinching at the unholy amount of money that was being thrown down on just a few outfits. Drake approached them, carrying a small silver platter with two glasses of wine precariously balanced on its surface. "Thank you for your gracious purchase, Mr. Largo. Will this be cash or charge?" Pavi produced a card, black plastic with his initials engraved on the cover, and placed it in Drake's hand. "Charge, please, from the company account." Graverobber shivered at Pavis words and the kiss on his finger tips sent his belly into a flip. Certainly Pavi was flirting, but that could mean something different in this high stage of society. He imagined sex was not as casual as it was on the streets. As Drake appeared Graverobber finally took his eyes off the elegant man who had funded him. Graverobber was a man of little ethics, none of the ruthless spending bothered him as it would a normal man. He took the glass of wine with much gratitude, needing for all the feelings sneaking up behind him. Pavi took his own glass, taking dainty, geisha-like sips of the bitter red liquid. His card and a mile-long receipt was thrust into his free hand. Without even a moment's look at the total he stuffed both back into his wallet. Drake approached again, this time holding two very large shopping bags. "As always, we'd like to thank you for your patronage, Mr. Largo. We hope to see you and your--" the shop owner paused, scanning Graverobber with a flirty glance, "/friend/ again very soon. Also, would you please remind your brother of the bill for the damages he caused last time he was here? One the models he injured is threatening to sue." Pavi smiled and nodded, snatching away the shopping bags. "But of course. Do forgive Luigi for his temper. We're still trying to wean him off the knife." ` After discarding the empty wine glass Pavi took Graverobber by the arm and dragged him out the door onto the busy sidewalk, expertly reopening his parasol with one hand as he did so. "Where to next, my sweet?" he sighed dreamily, still overwhelmed by how different a simple change of clothes had made Graves look. Graverobber was relieved to finally meet the stale air of the city once again. "Nourishment perhaps?" He suggested. It was around lunch time, and he had not eaten since the previous night. Adjusting to the new, tighter, smoother clothing Graverobber finally fell up to par with the rest of the strip. Pavi was quite a looker, women and mens heads turned to take a glance at the new and permanent face. Graverobber smiled. "Do you see them oogling? I told you you could make anything stylish." He smirked waving at a passing lady. He felt fit to play the part now, yes some soft pretzels and beer would do nicely. Pavi smiled, revealing eerily white teeth. A slight blush crept over his nose and cheeks, the color gloweringly bright against his pale complexion. It felt odd to be admired for his own natural features rather than that of whichever unfortunate soul whose face he stole. Still, admiration was admiration, and any sort of attention invigorated him. "Flattery will get you everywhere, darling, especially in the Largo house." He enlaced his fingers with that of the Graverobber and slowed his pace. "Just name the place and Pavi will take you there. Whatever sustenance you desire." With a satiated look Graverobber seemed to be in a dream squeezing Pavis hand when it intertwined with his. "Somewhere with a good beer and cake!" He raised his hand in the air, he had always wanted to taste good cake, the kind of cake at wedding for the rich. Pavi kept pumping him with gifts and booze, but Graverobber was having to good a time to notice the inquireies. "Yes! Cake with real icing, not glue or laced with narcotics!": He chanted excitedly. His laugh bellowed out into the street causing more turning heads. "We don't even need beer! Just Cake!"


End file.
